


The Eighth Circle of Hell (Target)

by Simwn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5031127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simwn/pseuds/Simwn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam takes Castiel shopping for clothes - it doesn't go the way he planned, but that's alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eighth Circle of Hell (Target)

Sam has been in Hell, so he can’t honestly compare Target to the Pit. But after spending two and a half hours picking through the men’s clothing section and having Castiel summarily reject every single thing, he’s ready to throw honesty out the window and call the shopping mart a previously undiscovered circle of Hell.

“What about _this_ one?”

Castiel draws his distracted gaze back to Sam, and then drops his eyes to the pair of black slacks Sam is holding out. He examines it for exactly ten seconds before turning away with a flat, “No.”

Fighting the urge to strangle the former angel, Sam throws the slacks back on the display with a muttered curse. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes squinting shut. “Cas,” the hunter grits out, “we’ve gone through the _entire_ store. You need clothes, man. Can you please just pick something so we can go?”

When Sam opens his eyes, Castiel is frowning severely at him. 

“We have not been through the entire store, Sam,” he says, inclining his head to the right.

Sam takes a deep breath, counts to ten, and turns to see what section Cas wants to drag him through now. The sign has him blinking rapidly in surprise: _Women’s Apparel_.

“But-“ 

Words rush through Sam’s head, explanations about gendered clothing and how men normally dress; they die halfway up his throat when Sam looks back at Castiel and sees the tight line of his jaw and how his hands are twisting nervously at his sides.

Letting his mouth curl into a soft smile, Sam grasps Castiel’s closest hand and gives it a squeeze. “Alright,” he says. “But we’re getting out of here in an hour – there’s only so much of this I can take!”

Castiel’s answering shy smile, and the way he threads his fingers through Sam’s, gets the hunter through the two hours Cas ends up spending trying on various blouses, skirts, and dresses. They max out the credit card, but that’s alright – they were due for a new one anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> At least three-quarters inspired by diminuel's fantastic drawings of Cas rocking around in various skirts/dresses.


End file.
